Saiman shook his head. “As much as I would love to have the Pack’s chief of security in the Pit, you wouldn’t qualify either. Stone class means an extra-large fighter.”
True. Jim was never a heavyweight. Even in his half-form, he was lean, quick, and lethal, but not bulky.
“I do have a Stone fighter available.” Saiman smiled. “Me.”
That beating I had taken from the Pack must’ve done permanent damage to my hearing. “Me who?”
“Me as in myself.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“What are you doing?” Saiman asked.
“I’m counting to ten in my head.” It worked for Curran; surely it would work for me . . . Nope, not feeling any better.
I opened my eyes. “I kill on a regular basis. So please understand that I say this with the full weight of my professional expertise behind it: you’ve gone off the deep end. You’re enthusiastic but unskilled, and you lack the physical strength and reflexes needed to kill a Reaper. If you enter the Pit, you will die horribly and in great pain and I won’t be able to jump in there and pull you out.”
“You’ve never seen me fight in my original form.”
A vision of golden-haired Adonis dancing through the snow flashed before me. “Yes, but I saw you dance. Your original form, while devastating to horny women and gay men, isn’t likely to slay any Reapers. You’ll get your head bashed in and we’ll lose an opportunity to plant the bug.”
Saiman smiled, a thin stretching of lips without any humor. “That was
Touché. “In that case, I hope your original form is a two-headed dragon spitting fire.”
“Give me an opportunity to fail,” Saiman said. “I promise that my corpse won’t interrupt your ‘I told you so’ speech. The bout is tonight. May I count on the two of you to act as my crew?”
What choice did we have? “Fine.”
Saiman rose. “I’ll have to make a formal appearance for the first part of the evening. After the fight, provided we accomplish the actual kill, the Reapers will be grounded by the Red Guards for one hour to allow us a head start. The House doesn’t wish any friction between fighters outside the ring. That will give the two of you ample time to arrive in Unicorn and make the necessary preparations. I’ll stay the night in the Arena, in my private rooms, to recuperate.”
Or he would stay the night in the morgue. The thought hung in the air like a funeral shroud. None of us mentioned it.
CHAPTER 15
AFTER JIM AND I WERE FINISHED WITH SAIMAN, Jim dropped me and the Pack horse at my apartment. I wanted to go back with him. I wanted to be there in case Derek woke up. I had this irrational idea that my staying close would somehow fix him.
But it wouldn’t. If I had gone back with Jim, I wouldn’t have slept, and I needed sleep and food badly. The Reapers wouldn’t take kindly to having one of their own knocked out of their lineup. If Saiman managed to deliver on his promise, they might come after us. I needed to be rested and sharp. So I took a shower, scrubbing every square inch of my skin and hair with scented soap to kill the smell of Jim’s posse, ate cold beef with black bread, tomato, and a little cheese, took a much-prized and expensive aspirin, and passed out.
I awoke at eight because my phone rang. I raised my head off my pillow and stared at it. It rang and rang, filling my head with noise. The answering machine came on and a familiar voice made me sit straight up.
“Kate.”
Curran.
“Call me as soon as you can.”
I picked up the phone. “I’m here.”
“You’re screening your calls?”
“Why not? It saves me from conversation with idiots.”
“Is that an insult?” His voice dropped into a deep growl.
“You’re not an idiot,” I told him. “You’re just a deadly psychopath with a god complex. What is it you want?”
“Have you seen Jim?”
“Nope.”
“He didn’t call you?”
“Nope.” But his goons beat the daylights out of me.
“What about Derek?”
“Nope. Haven’t seen him either.”
There was a momentary pause. “You’re lying.”
Shit. “Now what would make you think that?”
“You didn’t ask me if Derek is okay, Kate.”
That will teach me to have delicate diplomatic conversations first thing in the morning.
“That’s because I don’t care. You told me you’d bring me in on the investigation. You promised me full cooperation and interviews. That was Friday morning. It’s Sunday now. Forty-eight hours have passed. You blew me off, Curran. Just like always. Because you expect me to trip over my feet in a rush to help you, but the precious Pack can’t cooperate with outsiders. What you hear in my voice is apathy.” And bullshit. Lots and lots of bullshit.
“You’re rambling.”
Curran two, Kate zero.
“This is very important, Kate. Jim defied me. He’s refused a direct order to pull his crew in. I can’t let it stand. He has seventy-two hours to decide what to do. Then I’ll have to find him.”
“You’ve known Jim for years. Doesn’t he get the benefit of the doubt?”
“Not for this.” The hard shell on Curran’s voice broke. The alpha vanished for a moment, leaving a man in his place. “I don’t want to have to find him.”
I swallowed. “I’d imagine he doesn’t want you to find him either.”
“Then help me. Tell me what you know.”
“No.”
He sighed. “For one moment, forget it’s me. Put aside your ego. I’m the Beast Lord. You’re a member of the Order. You’re subordinate to me in this investigation. I order you to disclose the information. Do your job.”
It stung. I was doing my job to the best of my ability. “You’re mistaken. I’m not subordinate to you. You and I are on equal footing.”
“I see. Is Jim with you now?”
“Yes, he is. We’re having rough sex. You’re interrupting.”
I hung up.
The phone rang again.
Answering machine. “. . . not helping, Ka . . .”
I picked up the phone, held it for a second, and hung up. I didn’t want to lie to Curran. Even if it was for his own sake. Making shit up and trading witty barbs just wasn’t in me at the moment.
My bedroom was full of comfortable gloom, except for a narrow slash of light, which snuck through the gap between my curtains to fall right on my face. I stuck a pillow on my head.
I was drifting off into dreamland, the pillow on my head blocking the annoyingly persistent ray of light, when I heard a key turn in my lock. My door swung open.
The only person with a key to my place was the super, and he would never enter unannounced.
I forced myself to lie still, my limbs loose. Some picture I presented: my butt in white cotton panties sticking out, my head under the pillow. Not the most advantageous fighting stance.
I lay, hyperaware, all my senses straining. Very soft footsteps approached the bed. Closer. Closer.
Now!
